


Day Six: Hesitant Kiss

by Wolveria



Series: OC Kiss Week 2017 [5]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Androids, F/M, Kissing, Not Beta Read, OC Kiss Week, OC Kiss Week 2017, OCKissWeek, Original Character(s), Original Story - Freeform, Tumblr Prompt, Wingfic, Wings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-16
Updated: 2017-01-16
Packaged: 2018-09-17 19:19:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9339443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolveria/pseuds/Wolveria
Summary: Tara reconciles with Tom after her near-brush with death.(For the OC Kiss Week 2017 Tumblr prompt!)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Thomas is the android character from Day 2: Emotional Kiss. Tara refers to him as Thomas, rather than Tom.
> 
> And just to clear up any confusion, Tara and the other hybrids can retract/grow their wings at will. Which is why in some of the entries I describe wings, and in others I don't. If I don't mention any wings, assume they are absent. ;)

It had taken a good chunk of time for Tara to find some solitude. Between Jon trying to examine her for a concussion, Safina’s frantic hugs, and Yaz’s constant “Are you okay? Are you _sure_ you’re okay? How does your head feel? No ringing in your ears?” Tara was on the verge of flailing in distress.

She appreciated their concern, but she had only so much emotional bandwidth to handle the attention. Even Darien had attempted to relieve some of the tension by filling Jon’s usual roll of terrible pun-master. It did not go too well, but she appreciated the effort nonetheless.

There was one particular member of their group who was conspicuously absent. And she hadn’t looked for him. Tara wasn’t sure she was quite ready for that conversation just yet, as inevitable as it was.

Eventually, the group let her retreat to the room she shared with Yaz after she had asserted she was _fine_ but tired. She had healed through her injuries while she had been asleep (or in a coma, they weren’t entirely sure at that point). She couldn’t even remember the explosion, so their anxiety at her awakening had been very jarring. She really just wanted to go back to sleep and not think about anything for as long as possible.

Unfortunately, her body did not agree, and she fidgeted from one position to another, eventually settling for curling up on her side away from the door. Focused on her breathing. Relaxed her muscles one by one.

It didn’t help. She couldn’t stop thinking how badly she’d screwed up and nearly compromised the entire group. All because she’d been upset and stormed from the bunker. Sure, Tara had every reason to be as pissed as she was. She hadn’t been thinking straight. All she knew was she had to get out and _fly_ before she ended up doing something she deeply regretted and could never take back. And yet, she’d managed to do something reckless and stupid anyway.

What if she had been killed?

What if she had been _caught?_

She couldn’t make a mistake again. Not like that. Not for personal reasons that put the flight in danger.

Tara probably drifted off at some point. She wasn’t entirely sure. But the soft latch of the door opening and closing at her back fully summoned her attention. The hallway was dark, so no additional light filtered into the room, but she assumed it was Yaz heading to their own mattress on the other side of the cramped room.

It soon became apparent that the newcomer was not her roomie. Her sharpened hearing caught complete silence. Not even the soft breaths of a living being.

Tara closed her eyes and stifled the sigh that wanted to escape. There was no point in pretending to sleep. No doubt his biometric scanners already told him she was awake. So she waited for him to speak.

But he didn’t. The silence stretched on until she heard the telltale noise of cloth ruffling, a footfall, but the sound wasn’t any closer. He had turned to leave.

“Thomas.”

A pause, then, “I am sorry. It wasn’t my intention to disturb your rest.”

“I wasn’t sleeping.”

Another beat of silence, and she could almost feel his… hesitation? Concern? Certainly not anxiety. He hadn’t been programmed for that particular emotion, as far as she could tell.

Releasing the trapped sigh, Tara pulled herself into a sitting position, thoroughly giving up on the concept of sleep. She’d been unconscious for long enough, anyhow. She leaned against the wall, crisscrossing her legs as she studied the impressive figure standing in the middle of her room.

It was a sign of how ridiculous their lives had become that the sight of a near-human android wearing a tailored black vest and suit from straight out of 1940’s was perfectly normal. He would have looked right at home in a men’s fashion magazine if not for the shine of chrome under where his synthetic skin had been torn. What skin remained looked worn and faded. Not surprising, since he actually _had_ been around since the early 1940’s.

From far away, he looked perfectly normal. But the closer the distance, the more obvious it became that there was something… off about him.

It didn’t help that his face was marred by not only time, but by violence. The Corporation had not been gentle in their use of him. The left side of his jawbone had been scrapped down to the metal chassis underneath, and the bridge of his nose was still broken from where her fist had slammed into his face.

He hadn’t mended it yet, either. The realization made her flush with shame.

“What do you want, Thomas?” The words came out stiffer than she intended, and the guilt inside twisted further.

“I am here to apologize.” That caught her by surprise, though perhaps it shouldn’t have. He was constantly pushing the boundaries of what she thought he was capable of. Did he understand the concept of regret? Was that part of his programming?

“For what?” She couldn’t stop the slight bitterness that crept into her voice, guilt or not. “You’re going to have to be more specific.”

That uncertain pause again, his pale gaze glancing away while his processors created a response.

“I believe I am responsible for causing you to flee from the safety of the bunker,” he responded thoughtfully as he reestablished eye contact. “I am at fault for putting your life at risk.”

She raised her eyebrows in an expression of pure incredulity. He was learning so _quickly._

“No…” she responded, surprising herself at how rapidly her anger had extinguished. Maybe it was the near-death experience. Maybe it gave her the perspective she needed. “I shouldn’t have left. That was my mistake.” She released a stream of air she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “I’m sorry for… for hitting you.”

“It is natural,” Thomas responded with a slight incline of his head. “You have every right to express your anger.”

“Not if it harms someone in the process,” she asserted, pulling her knees up toward her chest to wrap her arms around them.

“You did not hurt someone,” he responded in a reasonable tone.

“I hurt _you_ ,” she returned with a clear emphasis of the word. “We are not having this discussion, Thomas. You’re one of us. End of story.”

He returned her heated stare with a calm one, and replied, “As you say.”

Tara closed her eyes and began to count to ten. It wouldn’t do any good to get frustrated at him for something that wasn’t his fault. But sometimes she wanted to grab him by the shoulders and shake some sense into him.

“I will leave you to get some rest.”

Her eyes flew open. He was already reaching for the door.

“No!” He paused, glancing over his shoulder. “Wait. You don’t have to leave.” The heat in her cheeks was beginning to rise from the embarrassing desperation in her voice. But she couldn’t help it.

As irritated as she was at him, now that he was here…

“Stay?” She asked, adding a belated, “Please?”

Normally she would have made absolutely sure that’s what he wanted. It was hard to tell sometimes. If he did things because he desired to, or if it was because she asked, or because he thought that’s what she would want. But at that moment, Tara really _did_ need him there. She hadn’t fully processed what had happened. How close she had come to dying. She wasn’t ready to face that yet, at least on her own.

Thomas studied her for a brief moment before nodding, a gesture he had picked up somewhere along the way. He approached her mattress, placed on the floor against the corner of the wall, and she smoothed the covers down to make room for him.

The automaton sat down beside her, stretching out his long legs. But they didn’t quite fit on the twin mattress, so he bent them at the knees and rested his wrists on top of his kneecaps. She was fairly sure she’d seen Darien sit in that exact pose, even down to the casual roll of his shoulders. The movement caused his arm to lean against hers, and he did not move it away.

Tara had learned early on that Thomas didn’t really understand the concept of personal space. It had been something they had to address after some very awkward encounters, but it wasn’t always such a bad thing. He didn’t experience the shy aversion most people had when coming into physical contact with another human being. It didn’t faze him. Tara, on the other hand, had always been a nervous-wreck when in close proximity to another person.

But not with him. With Thomas, she felt… at ease. He didn’t really understand social norms and boundaries, and it was actually a relief. It erased whatever self-consciousness she had when it was just the pair of them. After all, if he didn’t care, why should she?

Tara made small-talk at first, asking how the others had fared while she was unconscious. If there was any possibility their location had been exposed. How the overall operation was running.

Eventually she ran out of things to talk about. Things that were important in their own right, but she was discussing them in order to ignore the giant, trumpeting elephant in the room. It was Thomas who broached the subject first.

“I have something else I wish to apologize for, Tara.”

She closed her eyes and her stomach clenched with intense anxiety.

“Don’t,” she replied in a whisper.

“I feel I must,” he said politely, obviously missing all the social cues to _Proceed No Further._

“And I’m telling you, there’s no need.” The tension was building in her muscles, but not from anger. She did not want to talk about the thing that made her run. _At all._ “It was a long time ago. And it wasn’t your fault. I should never have reacted as I did. Nor blamed you in the first place.”

“While that is kind of you to say,” he responded with a slow, thoughtful tone, “I cannot accept clemency for my actions.”

Tara opened her eyes and turned her head to look up at him, confusion breaking through the veil of unreconciled grief that threatened to overtake her.

“What?”

“I may not have had control over my actions, but they were carried out by me, nonetheless.” The android looked down at her from under the brim of his hat, his pale eyes holding hers as he said, “And they had a devastating effect on you, shaping your life in ways unseen.” He seemed to smile with his eyes as he added, “I do not deserve your forgiveness.”

Tara felt the guilt squeeze her heart, and she wanted to tell him she forgave everything. Instead, she pushed down the lump in her throat and asked, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Thomas looked away from her and stared across the room, his expression blank but his voice strained by a fraction.

“I was… worried of the outcome.”

She didn’t have to ask why. The reason was obvious. And frankly, after her reaction, she couldn’t exactly blame him. But then he added:

“I believed concealing the truth would cause you the least amount of pain. What you were unaware of could not cause you suffering.” He paused, and Tara could have sworn the synthetic muscles in his jaw tightened. “I… miscalculated.”

Heavy silence followed his confession. She didn’t know what to say. How to react. What to feel. And then it somehow got worse.

“My error nearly caused you your life. And that is unforgiveable.”

It was too much. Tara couldn’t bear the thought of him being trapped in another feedback loop of self-punishment. He had done it before, after he’d defected to their side, and she didn’t want him to relive that experience.

She reached up and softly cradled the side of his face, her fingers brushing over the rough, human-like skin and resting on the exposed metal that served as his jawbone. Thomas didn’t visibly react as she turned his face toward hers, but she felt the servos hum underneath her fingertips as the cool metal began to warm, responding to her touch.

But now that she had his undivided attention, his nearly-white irises pinning her to the spot, words failed her. Tara wasn’t a skilled speaker like Safina. She wasn’t an expert at word-play like Jon, or an endless fountain of verbal energy like Yaz. She preferred action, and always had.

It was that tendency to put thought into deed that made her draw closer to him. But she hesitated, barely an inch away, a confusing flood of excitement and fear spiking through her body.

What was she _doing?_ Something terrible, probably, and her recent brush with death was making her reckless and stupid and who knew if Thomas even _wanted_ this. Would he ever know what it meant?

Yes, she’d always had a strange, confusing attraction to him, but he wasn’t human. She couldn’t expect him to—

The thought was cut short as Thomas closed the remaining distance, and her mind went completely blank at the sensation of his lips pressing against hers. All logic was cast aside as her body responded in full-force, clearly not caring whether he was human or not.

The intensity of her reaction stopped her breath, and she only began breathing again when she felt a feather-light touch against first one side of her head, then the other. The warmth and pressure increased as Tara realized he was cradling her head in his hands.

She melted under his touch, closing her eyes and surrendering to the longing she had buried for weeks. He seemed to sense her shift, and he held her more firmly as he deepened the kiss. What felt like an electric current to flush through her body, and her skin flushed with heat as her nerves tingled pleasantly.

Thomas broke the kiss first, pulling away but remaining close enough that she felt she would vibrate out of her skin. She nearly chased him with her lips until horrified embarrassment made her stop. What was wrong with her? How had she had lost control so quickly?

“Are you feeling well?” he inquired with perfect politeness, seeming completely unaffected by the fact she was slightly panting.

“Huh?” she asked stupidly.

“Your core and surface temperature have risen a considerable amount, as has your heartrate and oxygen-intake requirements,” he replied conversationally, and Tara was highly aware his hands were still gently cradling her face.

“I’m… yes? Fine. Great,” she verbally tripped and fumbled. “T-thank you. For asking.”

“Are you positive?” he asked with a tone approaching suspicion, and she could have sworn one eyebrow was arched higher than the other.

“Yep,” she responded, incapable of answering with a more intelligent response. “I’m good.”

His expression softened incrementally, and Tara might have missed it had she not been so close. She wondered what else she had missed when it came to the automaton. Obviously quite a bit, if recent events were anything to stand by.

Tara opened her mouth to speak. Then the door opened.

She was too startled by the sudden glare to react, and whoever it was now faced the undoubtedly confusing scene of the two of them frozen in some kind of intimate embrace.

“Oh.”

Tara looked up to see Yaz’s shocked expression under a mess of dark emerald green hair.

“Oh _. Oh_.”

“Uh…” Tara said helpfully.

“Hello, Yázhí Hoskie,” Thomas added even _more_ helpfully.

“Right. Sorry. I’ll come back later,” they hurriedly stated before retreating through the door, closing it. A second later, it was reopened as they asked:

“Should I turn off the light? Give you two some privacy?”

The cheeky grin and green hair disappeared behind the door as Yaz ducked out of the way, narrowly avoiding the pillow launched at their head.

**Author's Note:**

> "The Corporation" is a placeholder for now. I hope to publish this story someday, so I'm leaving some things a bit vague, like what Tom did exactly. I can't give away all my plot twists, now can I? ;)
> 
> But since not many people will read this, I'll give you a hint. Let's just say, he did a Bad Thing a long time ago. He pulled a Bucky. And Tara is both Steve and Tony in this situation. So you can imagine how well THAT scene went.
> 
> Anyway, this is the last prompt involving these particular OCs, so I hope you've enjoyed them! Let me know what you think!


End file.
